To My Dearest Reamer,
Thank you for everything that you do for me. The desserts and pasta at Upper, the pizza from Garlic Nott, those gorgeous wraps from Dutch, that could bring a grown man to tears, and so much more— they are the reason why I am here today. You are the reason I am full, and have a modicum of energy to deal with the long days that lie ahead of me.
You’re there to take care of my mood swings almost every hour of every [week]day, supporting me, and making sure that I function at my fullest. Alas, on the weekends only, you become a pale shadow of your thriving self, reduced to nothing but Dutch and declining. Where do you go, my Reamer, when I need you most? When I am slammed in my room with an endless to-do list, studying for midterms till my eyes bleed, you shun me. I have a small wish – a wish to have you by my side at all times. Is this too much to ask for, my dear? The joys of opening the foil of your wraps or dunking your sushi in soy sauce or customizing your pasta — these comforts are cruelly snatched and minimized over the weekend.
Reamer, O Reamer, wherefore art thou on weekends my Reamer? I am just a girl, standing in front of a dining hall, conveying my undying love and putting forth a desperate plea to have you by my side always. And yes, my dear, that includes the weekends. I need you to be with me when I need you most, and yet, you stay away. You distance yourself, but I simply cannot stay away from you for such long a time. Oh, how I miss you so much! Your absence pains me to no end, and therefore, I take to the newspaper for this grand declaration, and desperate imploration to have your love and support throughout the arduous weekends stuffed with homework galore. So make of this love letter as you will, for I have said my piece.
